and Orrie and Fred and I joined him to watch them descend to the sidewalk. Almost certainly there had been a third one, but he was nowhere in sight. They turned left, toward Tenth Avenue, but we didn't go out to see them to their car. Before we closed the door we examined the lock and found it intact. As I slid the bolt in Fred said that they must have the finest key collection in the world.
When we filed back into the office Wolfe was standing in the center of the rug, inspecting an object in his hand-the pencil flash Handsome had dropped. He tossed it onto my desk and roared, 'Talk! All of you! Talk!'
Everybody laughed.
'I'm offering a reward,' I said, loud. 'A framed photograph of J. Edgar Hoover to anyone who will prove that it is bugged and they have a tape of that to send him.'
'By God,' Fred said, 'if only they had tried something.'
'I want champagne,' Saul said.
'Make mine bourbon,' Orrie said. 'I'm hungry.'
It was twenty minutes to eight. We went to the kitchen, including Wolfe, everybody talking at once. Wolfe began getting things from the refrigerator-caviar, pate de foie gras, sturgeon, a whole smoked pheasant. Saul opened the freezer to get ice for champague. Orrie and I got bottles from the cupboard. Fred asked if he could use the phone to call his wife, and I said yes and give her my love, but Wolfe spoke.
'Tell her you will stay here tonight. You will all stay. In the morning Archie will take those things to the bank, and you'll go with him. They will probably do nothing, but they might try anything. Fred, tell nothing of this to your wife, or to anyone else. It isn't finished, it's only well started. If you men want something hot I can have Yorkshire Buck in twenty minutes if Archie will poach the eggs.'
They all said no, which suited me fine. I hate to poach eggs.
An hour later we were having a pleasant evening. The three guests and I were in the front room, in a tight game of pinochle, and Wolfe was in his one and only chair in the office, reading a book. The book was The FBI Nobody Knows. He was either gloating or doing research, I didn't know which.
At ten o'clock I had to excuse myself from the card table briefly; Wolfe had said he wanted to call Hewitt then, when the aristologists would presumably have finished their meal. I went to the office and made the call. Wolfe told Hewitt it had worked perfectly and thanked him. Hewitt said they had found the stand-ins very entertaining; Jarvis had recited passages from Shakespeare and Kirby had mimicked President Johnson and Barry Goldwater and Alfred Lunt. Wolfe said to give them his regards, and I went back to pinochle and Wolfe to his book.
But there was another interruption a little after eleven o'clock. The phone rang, and Wolfe hates to answer it, so I went and got it at my desk.
'Nero Wolfe's residence, Archie Goodwin speaking.'
'This is Richard Wragg, Goodwin.' The voice was a drawl, smooth and low-pitched. 'I want to speak to Wolfe.'
We had known that might happen, and I had instructions.
'I'm afraid you can't, Wragg. He's engaged.'
'I want to see him.'
'Good idea. He thought you might. Say here, his office, at eleven in the morning?'
'I want to see him tonight. Now.'
'I'm sorry, Wragg, that isn't possible. He's very busy. The earliest would be eleven in the morning.'
'What's he busy at?'
'He's reading a book. The FBI Nobody Knows. In half an hour he'll be in bed.'
'I'll be there at eleven.'
It sounded as if he cradled it with a bang, but I could have imagined that. I turned to Wolfe. 'I called him Wragg because that's his name. Eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. As expected.'
'And desired. We must confer. When your game is finished.'
I rose. 'It won't take long. I just melded three hundred and forty.'
13
I need, and nearly always get, a good eight hours' sleep, but that night I got six. At 1:10, with Wolfe gone up to bed, and also Fred and Orrie, and Saul on the sofa in the front room, I was about to crawl in on the couch when the doorbell rang. It was Fritz and Jarvis and Kirby, and when I saw Kirby stagger across the threshold I wondered what ditch the Heron was in. I asked him where the car was and he just goggled at me, his lips pressed tight. Thinking he was sticking to the instructions, I told him he could talk now, and Fritz said he could not talk now because he was too drunk, and added that the car was out in front, perfectly all right, but only the good God knew how it had got there. He took them up to their room in the elevator, and I put on shoes and my overcoat over pajamas, and went out and took the Heron to the garage. Not a scratch.
The first number on the program for Friday was scheduled for 8:30. At 7:45 I turned on the will power and rolled out, got my arms full of blankets and sheets and pillow, and made it up to my room. When I came out of the bathroom after showering and shaving, Fred and Orrie were sitting on the edge of the bed,
